Page 38 of Rough

He placed a cup in front of me. “Did you look at the bike?”

I glanced at the drink. It wasn’t what I expected. A clear ice-filled cup with white liquid at the bottom and brown at the top, I had no idea what it was. “No, I didn’t. I was thinking.”

He sat down.

I took a drink. “Oh, wow. That’s good. What is it?”

“Iced caramel macchiato.”

I raised the cup as if toasting the subject. “The fact that you can even order something like this supports the air quote statement.”

“I asked them what girls like.”

I motioned toward the sheets of paper. “Sign those before you forget our agreement.”

“You said after we’re done.”

“Did I?”

He took a sip of his drink and nodded. “Yep.”

“Tell me, Samson. Before your hair was long, were you short and skinny?”

He laughed. “No. It’s just. Shit used to happen. A lot of shit used to happen. Then, I grew it out. And, since it’s been long, nothing really bad has happened. So, it’s kind of like Samson, or a good luck charm, or whatever.”

“You believe in good luck charms?”

“I believe in not changing shit if it’s working. Kind of like you and your car.”

“I see.” I took another drink, and studied him the entire time. “What kind of shit?”

He scrunched his nose. “Huh?”

“What kind of shit happened? You said a lot of shit used to happen, and then you grew your hair out. The good luck charm thing, remember?”

“Club shit.”

“What’s club shit?”

“That means it’s not to be discussed.”

I took another sip. “Not with women?”

He leaned forward. “Not with anyone.”

“Like Sons of Anarchy?”

“You watch that shit?”

“I’ve seen it a few times, yes,” I lied. I’d seen them all.

“Kind of like that, but not Hollywood-ized.”

“What’s Hollywood-ized about it?”

“We don’t shoot guns from our hips while we’re riding our bikes.”

“You wait until you come to a stop?”